


Be My Forever

by thesalmondean



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Blood and Injury, Happy Ending, M/M, Mistaken Identity - Death, Self-Harm, bodily injury, fluff - angst - then fluff again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 07:32:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7305424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesalmondean/pseuds/thesalmondean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron's world crumbles from beneath him when a case of mistaken identity leads him to believe Robert has died. (set during summer 2016)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be My Forever

**Author's Note:**

> I took dramatic license with hospital practices and procedures and protocol, but it was needed to make the story work so I hope it's forgivable.

  _“-so it’s gonna be forever, or it’s gonna go down in flames, you can tell me when it’s over, if the high was worth the pain-,“_

Robert popped the bonnet of the late model Ford Fiesta and whistled along to the music coming from the small portable radio sat atop the scrapped car. The car had been sitting at the scrapyard for a week and a half and Robert – bored with Home James paperwork and looking to take in some of the warm summer weather – had decided to take it upon himself to get started stripping it. Aaron had teased him mercilessly all through morning as he’d worked to get the wheels off the car, spending more time than was necessary bringing into question Robert’s past as a mechanic. Finally, when Robert stopped reacting to Aaron, the other man retreated into the cooler, quieter portacabin to do some Holey Scrap paperwork, leaving Robert in peace.

“-’cause you know I love the players, and you love the game-,” Robert murmured along with the song as he evaluated the various under-bonnet components of the car, deducing the best strategy to pull it all apart quickly and efficiently.

  _“-and we’re young and we’re reckless, we’ll take this way too far, it’ll leave you breathless, or with a nasty scar - ,”_

“-got a long list of ex-lovers, they’ll tell you I’m insane,” Robert disconnected the battery, not paying attention to the words of the song, or noticing that Aaron had come out of the portacabin and was watching him, “but I got a Blank Space baby-,” Robert grunted the last words as he hoisted the battery from its cradle.

_"-and I’ll write your name-,”_

Car battery in his arms, Robert resumed whistling along. Turning, he stopped dead in his tracks when he found an amused Aaron standing behind him with a grin that lit up his entire face.

“You really are a closet T Swift fan,” Aaron laughed then, and Robert felt a flush of heat creep up his neck and into his cheeks.

Allowing himself a brief moment of embarrassment, Robert reluctantly cracked a smile and shook his head, shrugging. Aaron’s grin hadn’t faltered and it was still heart-stopping for Robert to see him so light-hearted; so happy. Setting the car battery down on the gravel he then raised his hands in mock defeat.

“I guess I am,” Robert laughed, ready for Aaron to take the mick out of him – there was no way he could talk himself out of this, but then again really he didn’t want to; what he wanted was to see more of Aaron smiling. Besides, it wasn’t like he was an actual Taylor Swift fan…not really. Just because he didn’t change the station when her music came on; and just because he somehow knew all the words to her songs even though he didn’t own any of her albums...neither of those things made him an actual fan. At least that’s how he liked to rationalize it.

“You’re secret’s safe with me,” Aaron smirked, wishing he’d have taken a few seconds of video on his phone before Robert had turned around and seen him. But the guy had been too damn cute and Aaron had simply wanted to watch. Plus, he kind of loved that Robert would sing along to Taylor Swift, though he would never admit it to Robert.

Robert offered a sarcastic smile and shook his head, “ah, cheers.”

Arching his eyebrow, Aaron closed the short distance between them. Offering a teasing wink he playfully swatted Robert’s behind before turning back towards the portacabin.

“When you’re done your little one man show, I’ve put the kettle on,” Aaron called over his shoulder.

Robert smiled to himself as he marveled at how lucky he was. It was a pleasantly warm day and Aaron, who usually wore at least two layers of clothing at all times, was clad only in dark jeans and a light blue tshirt – his standard black hoodie tied at his waist. So Robert stared, blatantly admiring his slender form, and when Aaron turned in the doorway of the portacabin Robert arched his brow suggestively. Aaron shook his head with smirk and shrugged.

Stripping his hands of the thick leather work gloves and dropping them on the ground next to the freshly extricated car battery, Robert turned the portable radio off and followed Aaron into the portacabin. Robert liked – no, he loved – being the reason Aaron smiled, rather than the reason he was angry or upset. Robert _wanted_ Aaron to be happy, and not saddled with the weight of the world. Robert thought he would do just about anything to make sure Aaron stayed happy, including letting him think he was the biggest Taylor Swift fan in all of Yorkshire; or all of England; or even all of Great Britain.

Several minutes later, mugs in hand, the two men sat side by side on the top riser of the rickety metal stairs leading into the portacabin. Their bodies were pressed close on the somewhat narrow stair. Robert didn’t mind it – in fact, he rather liked it when Aaron touched him, no matter of it was on purpose, or simply a byproduct of their forced proximity.

Robert gazed at the slow moving, billowy, white clouds in the bright cerulean sky, occasionally stealing sideways glances at Aaron. The other man was staring down at his phone, fingers moving as he sent another text message to some unknown recipient, the third since they’d sat down.

“What’s going on,” Robert prodded, sipping his tea.

Aaron sighed heavily and slid his phone into his back pocket before picking up his mug from where he’d set it between his feet.

“Adam,” Aaron said, shaking his head before taking a drink from his mug. He was irritated that his afternoon with Robert was being disrupted by Adam’s recent ineptness at rescheduling meetings and pickups. He sincerely wondered if Adam didn’t do it on purpose…

“I have to go to town for a meeting Adam forgot to cancel,” Aaron turned his head, “Wanna go?”

“Thrilling as that sounds,” Robert met Aaron’s eyes, “I’ll keep on with the car. I’ll be here when you get back, though.”

Aaron nodded, feeling a twinge of disappointment that he hoped he’d masked from his expression. He’d grown accustomed to spending his days with Robert – at work, at dinner, at tea, through the night…he was just a bit put out that he’d have to spend the better part of the afternoon with some dodgy scrap metal businessmen in some stuffy meeting room in Hotten.

Twisting, Aaron placed his mug just inside the open door of the cabin before turning back to face Robert. Leaning in Aaron kissed him, leaving Robert wanting a hell of a lot more when he pulled away – which had been Aaron’s intention.

“Right,” Aaron stood and fully aware of Robert’s eyes on him, he untied the knotted sleeves of the hoodie from around his waist and tossed it over Robert’s head and into the cabin, “see ya in a bit.”

Robert simply glared as Aaron sauntered across the yard towards his car. His sexual frustration increasing proportional to the further Aaron moved from him.

“And, uh, maybe clean up this mess?” Aaron spun round and indicated with his finger the scrap heap Robert had started that morning, even as he continued walking backwards the remaining distance to his car.

Robert set his mug beside Aaron’s just inside the door of the cabin before standing and calling back, “Yeah, don’t push your luck.”

* * *

It wasn’t until Aaron was leaving Hotten a few hours later that he realized he’d left his phone back at the yard. Since he couldn’t call to see if Robert was interested in some curry for tea – Aaron simply took it upon himself to stop and get some before heading back to the village. Liv was supposed to be staying over with Gabby for the night, so Robert would get Aaron all to himself. They’d not had a proper night in together for, well, a very long time.

Feeling happier than he had in months, Aaron hummed along with the radio ( _not Taylor Swift though_ , he thought with a grin) as he headed back to the scrapyard.

Pulling into the yard, Aaron parked in his usual spot, calling out Robert’s name as he climbed from his car. He was met with silence.

Not silence though – the small portable radio sitting atop the scrapped Fiesta was on, a song Aaron didn’t recognize playing from the tiny speakers. There were pieces of plastic and metal strewn around the front end of the scrapper and it looked to be a messier than when Aaron had left. In fact it almost seemed like Robert had intentionally made a bigger mess rather than try to tidy up.

“Cheeky,” Aaron shook his head, annoyed but amused, as he began to make his way towards the portacabin, takeaway in hand.

That was the last moment Aaron could remember that everything was fine…because after that moment everything became a living, breathing nightmare.

At first, things seemed to be as they’d been when he’d left earlier in the day (aside from the disorganized mess around the car); the door to the cabin was wide open and Aaron could just see their mugs were still on the floor just inside. The same for Aaron’s hoodie; it was still where it’d landed after he’d thrown it, draped half on the desk directly opposite the door, one sleeve hanging off the edge and nearly reaching the grimy, grease-stained floor…

But things weren’t like when he’d left, because Robert was nowhere to be found, and as Aaron moved towards the open door of the portacabin and took in all the things that were the same as when he’d left, he also began to notice what was different. Namely, that there was a trail of bright red dots on the white gravel substrate of the scrap yard. It was leading him in the direction of the cabin. So many drops…big ones that appeared to have splattered upon impact, little ones that appeared to have in perfect, evenly-spaced ‘dotted’ lines, and even a few tiny pools that had collected in the divots created by their footfalls from earlier.

Blood. Someone’s blood.

Aaron dropped the curry takeaway and jogged the remaining distance to the small portable building. He took the stairs in one leap as his eyes adjusted to the shadowy darkness and in moments he was seeing the smeared blood on the floor, and the hoodie he kept on site for emergencies – it used to be gray and was now a dark, dark red.

Red with blood.

Robert was still nowhere to be seen.

Aaron barely registered the ripped bandage wrappers and other obvious signs of paramedics. All he felt was growing panic. Something had obviously happened and Robert had been hurt.

Scrambling over the mess on the floor, Aaron unceremoniously shuffled through his desk, tossing papers and notebooks aside until he unearthed his phone. There were four voicemails and seven text messages…all from Robert.

Aaron breathed a partial sigh of relief, playing the first voicemail while he scanned the text messages at the same time.

_“Aaron, I’ve cut my hand pretty bad and they’re taking me to hospital. Bell me as soon as you get this.”_

According to the texts, Robert was at Hotten General. Aaron leapt down the stairs and ran to his car. He took no notice of the curry spilled on the blood-stained gravel. His mind was singular in focus and all he wanted to do was get to Robert as fast as he possibly could.

As he drove back towards Hotten, recklessly fast he was mildly aware, he listened to the remaining three messages. They were each similar to the first, though the urgency with which Robert begged Aaron to call him back increased with each message making Aaron’s heart pound harder and faster in his chest. What might Robert be thinking! All because Aaron forgot his damn phone.

Aaron punched his steering wheel, barely noticing the painful sting that bloomed in his fist. Instead he cursed the traffic, and cursed the fact that Robert probably thought he wasn’t in the least bit bothered about his injury.

Robert would be fine – of course he’d be fine! – people didn’t die from simple cuts to their hand, at least not if they were treated right away. Still Aaron was uneasy and anxious and he knew he wouldn’t feel better until he had Robert in front of him and could see his eyes twinkle with that mischievous air he had about him; he wouldn’t feel better until he could touch Robert, and wrap his arms around him and pull him close and feel his heart beat against his chest; he wouldn’t feel better until he could hear Robert’s laugh accompanied by his bright eyes and dazzling smile and hands gripping Aaron’s face as Robert kissed him over and over and over again.

He wouldn’t feel better until he heard Robert tell him he was okay.

There must have been something in the air that day – the warm weather perhaps causing all sorts of mishaps – because when Aaron arrived at the hospital it was bustling with activity. A&E was jammed with people; men, women, children of all ages, crying babies. Aaron had never seen the place so bursting with ill and injured.

The receptionist was no help, either. She simply waved him away without another word when he answered ‘no’ to her question if he was injured or ill. She was not in the least bit interested in hearing anything more from him, and she blatantly ignored his further attempts to ask after Robert.

Aaron stood in the middle of the busy A&E and felt for a moment completely and totally lost. He didn’t know where to go; he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t even sit down as there were not even any chairs available.

He thought about calling Vic, but he had nothing to tell her other than Robert had hurt himself. What good would that news do anyone?

_No_ , he thought. It’d be best to wait until he had spoken to Robert and actually had information about what had happened before he started calling people.

Aaron crossed the busy A&E and leaned against the wall next to the coffee machine. Pulling out his phone he scanned Robert’s texts again. The last one he had sent said something about needing to have surgery…Aaron checked the time; it had been three hours since Robert’s last text message. Maybe he was still on the surgical ward?

Scanning the cramped and bustling A&E Aaron decided that instead of waiting there with no hope of getting answers he’d do what he could to find Robert, and that meant seeking out information on the surgical ward. A decision made, Aaron began to feel a little bit better.

Pocketing his phone he made his way through the hospital, following the signs even though he recognized many of the corridors and various family rooms and vending machines and waiting areas from the multitude of times he’d been before; for himself, for Cain, for Paddy...for Jackson. Now for Robert, too.

When Aaron reached the ward, he approached the much quieter desk with purpose, though he suddenly felt scared – the minuscule (perhaps infinitesimal) possibility that Robert wasn’t alright choosing that exact moment to present itself to Aaron.

“Can I help you?” the nurse asked pleasantly, shuffling charts her hands before raising her eyes to Aaron.

“Uh – yeah. Uh… my boyfriend’s here. I think he’s here. I just got here m’self. I’m tryin’ to find him,” Aaron gave a half-shrug and looked around before continuing, his mind racing with all the things he wanted to ask and his mouth and tongue betraying him by not keeping up.

“He cut his hand? They were going to operate. I’m just-,” Aaron took in a deep breath, the tail end of it catching in his throat. He swallowed hard and willed himself to hold it together. He was panicking over nothing. Robert was fine – he would continue to be fine and they would laugh about this in a few weeks time…

“I just need to see him, or find out his condition. Just…I need…I need some help.”

“Okay. Just wait here a minute, please,” the woman offered a smile that didn’t quite touch her eyes and that didn’t assuage any of Aaron’s nerves.

Leaving the desk she headed down a hall toward a set of doors marked _Medical Personnel Only._ Aaron watched her – his heart leaping wildly when, just before disappearing through the doors, she cast a glance back over her shoulder at him.

Aaron paced the silent, empty hallway, nervous and worried and his anxiety increasing with every moment he was left alone to wonder about Robert’s condition. He couldn’t help but think back to that very morning and Robert singing along to Taylor Swift while scrapping that car. A small smile played on his lips as the memory played in his head.

He loved Robert – more with each passing day – and not knowing what was going on was the ultimate torture. All Aaron wanted, more than anything else in the world, was for Robert to come walking through those bloody doors, and to take Aaron in his arms and never let him go. He ached for it.

Minutes that felt like hours passed, and Aaron bit at his fingernails until his cuticles began to bleed. Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he began gnawing on his lower lip – channeling his worry into that one simple action. Finally the doors behind which the nurse had disappeared swung open – but the person who emerged wasn’t the nurse Aaron had expected, and her prolong absence was causing Aaron no end of grief and stress.

“Excuse me,” Aaron, impatient for someone to give him some bloody news, approached the older woman. She wore the same uniform as the other nurse so Aaron figured she was a safe bet to ask after Robert.

“Yes?” she replied, eyeing Aaron curiously.

“My boyfriend. He had an operation. On his arm. I need to find out where he is?” Aaron said, his sentences short and his cadence clipped and somewhat robotic.

It didn’t go unnoticed when the woman’s expression darkened.

“I’m sorry, love,” she took a step closer to Aaron, and instinctively Aaron took a step backwards away from her.

“Sorry? What for?” He shook his head, his hands forming tightly clenched fists in his pockets.

“He died,” she said, moving closer again and as before, Aaron took a matching step back.

Surely there was a mistake…an error. That made no earthly sense. Dead? From a cut on his hand?

“He what?”

Aaron couldn’t process the words. They didn’t belong in the same sentence together. Surely she was wrong?

Aaron fought acceptance, even as the loss began to take hold, even as his body began to react when his mind was still denying it was real. Because if Robert was dead then…there would be no more days at the scrapyard…there would be no more tea together on the step…there would be no more teasing Robert for singing along to Taylor Swift songs...there would be no more Robert.

Aaron stared at the nurse – he could see her mouth moving and he could hear her voice saying words but the words were just meaningless sound. Robert couldn’t be dead – he couldn’t be gone. Not like this. Not after everything they’d gone through the last year and a half. They’d only just found their way back to each other. They’d only just started to explore a real relationship.  

This couldn’t be happening.

Aaron shook his head slowly, willing himself to not accept it because maybe if he kept denying what he’d heard could keep it from being real.

“Sir?” The nurse’s raised voice cut through the white noise in Aaron’s head and her hand lit upon his forearm…the same forearm that bore the scar that had nearly killed him months earlier. The scar not only symbolized the darkest moments of Aaron’s life, but also had come to symbolize Robert returning to him.

“No. It’s a mistake,” Aaron violently pulled away from her, his eyes brimmed with tears that chose that exact moment to spill out and run down his face.

“He’s not dead,” he said, his voice strong and firm while inside his heart was being ripped apart at the seams and the pain….the pain was too much and Aaron backed away from the nurse again, shaking his head and repeating over and over under his breath, “he’s not dead.”

When his back hit the wall behind him, Aaron gave no thought to his actions as he simply slammed the back of his head hard against it, so hard his vision tunneled before flashes of light slowly worked their way back into his periphery.

There were more people around him now, he vaguely realized, almost as if he were watching the scene from outside himself. There were hands reaching out to grab at him as he slowly sank to the floor. Aaron pushed them away but they continued to grab at him, trying to pull him up.

Aaron couldn’t move; he didn’t want to move. He hurt everywhere; a deep, aching pain that was regrettably familiar. He’d felt something similar when Jackson had died, only then he’d at least had some warning; painful and tragic as it was he’d been at least marginally prepared. Not completely blindsided.

Head aching and heart seizing and breaking, Aaron’s vision blurred as more tears welled up and fell, unbidden.

Voices tried to talk to him, but Aaron ignored them all. He couldn’t really hear them anyway – his mind was full of thoughts and memories of Robert and of their morning together – of their last kiss, the last time they’d made love, the last time he’d told Robert he loved him…

This wasn’t happening; it couldn’t be happening.

_Wake up, Aaron!_ He thought to himself as he slammed the back of his head against the wall again – the cacophony of voices around him rising in volume and hands grabbing at him again, but more forcibly this time.

It was a nightmare. A real, true nightmare and Aaron didn’t want to be in it any longer. A world without Robert was unbearable. A life without Robert was unimaginable.

Aaron dropped his head into his hands and aggressively wiped at his eyes, his jaw clenching. The throb in his head not nearly enough to distract from the deep, infinite chasm of despair ripping open in his chest. Closing his eyes, Aaron threw his head back again, the fresh flash of pain from hitting the wall nowhere near strong enough.

In a sudden movement, Aaron sprang to his feet and spun around so he was facing the wall. Before anyone could stop him he was striking his forehead against the wall and not seconds later strong hands were gripping his shoulders and pulling him back.

“Let me go-,” he growled between clenched teeth, looking around him and vaguely registering the two burly men who had vice-like grips on his arms. He opened his mouth to protest again when he saw the same nurse who’d told him the news ( _Robert can’t be dead_ ) approach with a needle and before he had time to even form a word she was jabbing it into his arm and he was slipping into another place, a dark place. He didn’t mind, on some level he knew that in the dark place he wouldn’t know that Robert was dead.

Before losing consciousness, Aaron tried to speak; he wanted to ask if they would keep him in the dark place forever.

* * *

 The first thing Aaron noticed as he started to regain consciousness was the smell, and his sinuses stung with the strong aroma of disinfectant. The second thing he noticed, when he opened his eyes, was the too bright look of everything around him. The harsh fluorescent lights made all the white seem so much whiter. The third thing he noticed was the dull, throbbing ache in his head…which was exacerbated by both the strong smell and blinding overhead lights.

Softly groaning, Aaron closed his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to breathe around the smell…the hospital smell. It was at that moment he remembered where he was and why, and his eyes flew back open in a panic, bright lights and strong smells forgotten Aaron remembered what he’d been told; that Robert was dead.

Fat tears leaking silently from the corners of Aaron’s eyes, he began to consider the reality of the situation. He realized with incredible dread and heartbreak that he’d have to tell Liv – not to mention Vic and Diane…

Aaron lifted his arm and placed his hand over his eyes, squeezing his aching temples and stimulating new, shooting pains through his head while also trying to begin to imagine going on with his life without Robert. He wondered despairingly if he was cursed; how many 24 year-olds have buried two lovers?

The striped, white curtain around the bed shifted then and Aaron, hand still over his face, felt more than heard a presence move towards him.

Expecting to hear some nurse or doctor tell him he was being sent home and that was that, he was shocked to hear an all too familiar voice instead.

“You’re awake! Christ Aaron, you had me worried.”

Aaron moved his hand from his face and lifted his head from the pillow, ignoring the protestations of his neck and the throbbing headache that intensified with the sudden movement.

Robert stood beside the bed in a plain white t-shirt, his arm in a sling hung round his neck, a concerned look on his face.

“Robert?” Aaron breathed his name, pure joy and adrenaline coursing through his body, all his limbs vibrating with the shock of seeing the man he’d moments ago thought dead standing in front of him.

“That’s me,” Robert’s concerned look transitioned to a questioning smile as he moved closer to the bed.

Aaron dropped his head back to the pillow as Robert hovered over him, haloed by harsh florescent lighting and never looking more beautiful. Reaching out Aaron grasped at Robert’s uninjured hand and gripped it tight.

“You were worried about me. You-,” Aaron voice hitched and Robert’s expression grew more confused.

“They told me you died,” Aaron added, unable to stop a choked sob from bursting forth. Aaron smiled through the tears, fighting back the urge to pull Robert down on top of him and hold him close.

“They what?” Robert’s eyes widened and his expression darkened. Aaron nearly burst out laughing at the very familiar expression.

“They neglected to mention that when they told me you were here,” Robert’s jaw clenched and Aaron recognized the vengeful look in his eye. It was a look he’d seen many times in their sordid history and while he had never wanted to see it again he was also never so happy as he was to see it now.

Aaron reluctantly released Robert’s hand and winced as he pushed himself up to sitting. The throbbing in his head intensified with the exertion, before fading back to the annoying dull ache.

Tears abating and heart on the mend, Aaron wiped his eyes clear and took in the sight of Robert; his right arm – palm to elbow – wrapped in layers of gauze and bandages, splinted and hung in a sling. The white t-shirt, as Aaron looked closer, had blood spots near the hem on the right side. Slung over his left shoulder was the light blue work shirt Robert had been wearing that morning; it was folded on itself but Aaron could still see the blood stains…he moved his eyes back to Robert’s face, finding the other man staring back at him.

“Doesn’t matter,” Aaron offered a tight lipped smile that felt as insincere as he knew it looked.

“It does matter,” Robert replied, brow knotting together as he moved to the head of the bed and gently stroked Aaron’s cheek with his free hand.

“You hurt yourself,” Robert observed quietly, his eyes traveling across Aaron’s features, pausing at Aaron’s forehead where no doubt there were ample bruises to prove the point.

Reaching up, Aaron grabbed Robert’s hand from where it was cupping his cheek. Threading their fingers Aaron pressed Robert’s hand to his chest.

“What the hell did you do to yourself?” Aaron finally asked, ignoring Robert’s observations and diverting the conversation.

“I was an idiot and tried to strip that car without work gloves,” Robert looked down at his arm, “cut my wrist open about five inches. Bled everywhere. Doctors said I missed causing permanent nerve damage by like a centimeter,” Robert looked back at Aaron with a sheepish look on his face.

“You’re not allowed to work in the scrapyard unsupervised ever again,” Aaron said trying to tease but failing miserably as the joke fell flat.

Robert gave a short, breathy laugh and nodded – he understood.

“Ready to get outta here, then?” Robert asked, and Aaron couldn’t get out of the hospital bed fast enough.

Forty-five minutes later they were in a taxi back to the village, Aaron nestling himself under Robert’s uninjured arm for the ride back. Neither were fit to drive; one on prescription pain meds, the other just having been sedated. So they accepted the free taxi (paid for by the hospital; it was the very least the hospital could do, Robert had angrily shouted at them), and made plans to go back later for Aaron’s car.

Before leaving, they’d gotten a partial explanation for what had happened. Seemed there had been a death that afternoon, also from a deep laceration. Difference being, the guy who had died had cut his femoral artery, which is quite a different thing then a deep cut of the wrist. But the hospital staff, for whatever reason, conflated to two injuries and then never confirmed a name with Aaron before telling him of this other death. It had all been a series of unfortunate coincidences.

Robert, upon hearing the explanation, had threatened every doctor and nurse on the surgical ward; it was only after Aaron quietly placed a hand on his arm that he stopped. All the staff looked appropriately shamed by their lack of protocol, and even though Robert was nowhere near done with making sure the hospital accepted responsibility for the massive error and resulting emotional distress – he left it for the moment. But they hadn’t seen the last of him – they were going to pay for the pain and stress they’d put on Aaron…just like Aaron was going to answer for the as yet unexplained bruising on his forehead. The nurses had mentioned, when asked, that Aaron had hit the wall and Robert was deeply concerned it had been on purpose.

Later that night, after explaining their disheveled appearances to a concerned Chas, after fielding a panicked call from Adam who had gone to the yard to find the bloody mess, and after Robert has assuaged a very worried Vic that he was indeed just fine, they retreated to the upstairs of the Woolpack to recoup.

Showering together, they each helped the other wash and unwind (specifically, Aaron helped Robert, since Robert only had one working arm for the moment), quietly tending to the other under the hot, therapeutic water.

Clean and dressed in pjs for the night, the two men ate in relative silence, Chas having brought them some pies while they’d been washing up.

“I was bringing back curry for tea,” Aaron finally said into the quiet of the room, the food on his plate reminding him of the wasted curry that was lying spoilt in the gravel drive of the scrapyard.

“We’ll just have to go out instead. Maybe tomorrow?” Robert countered and Aaron nodded and smiled tiredly.

Now that they were back all the emotional wear and tear of the day was catching up to Aaron. He was physically and mentally exhausted, so much so he couldn’t even enjoy his food, mostly picking at it instead of eating it.

“Are you okay?” Robert asked, having watched Aaron stab a fork into his pie over and over while he stared at it sullenly for the last fifteen minutes. Robert recognized the behavior – Aaron tended to act distant and closed-off when battling emotional upheaval.

“Hmmm,” Aaron hummed and nodded.

“Except you’re not,” Robert stood from the bed and took he and Aaron’s mostly unfinished food, opening the bedroom door and setting it in the hall. He’d take the plates and such downstairs later; or more likely Chas would find it and clear it for them.

“I can see you’re not,” Robert added, closing the door and leaning against it, seeing weariness all over Aaron’s face.

“Yeah. I thought you’d died today,” Aaron said with obvious frustration, “I'm not gonna just bounce back from that.”

“That’s not what-,” Robert stopped himself and moved back to the bed, sitting next to Aaron. He didn't want this to turn into a fight; he really was just worried.

“You hurt yourself,” Robert said, “again.”

Aaron was staring down at his hands in his lap, nodding.

“I know,” he finally replied.

“You gotta stop,” Robert pleaded, staring at Aaron’s face, in profile, as the other man would not raise his eyes from his hands.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Aaron repeated, and Robert could hear the strain in his voice as he spoke, “and it hurt so much I just needed it to stop.”

“I can’t lose you,” he added, shaking his head. Robert’s heart welled with love, even as his anger at Aaron’s self-harm reared its head. 

“You won’t,” Robert said softly, after a pause.

Reaching out, Robert lifted Aaron’s chin and turned his head to meet Robert’s eyes.

“You won’t lose me. I promise,” Robert stared at Aaron, willing the other man to believe him.

“You don’t know that. You can’t promise that,” Aaron said after a moment, a single tear slipping out of the corner of his eye. Robert, his hand still propped under Aaron’s chin, swept his thumb across Aaron’s cheek, wiping it away.

“Okay," Robert’s hand moved from under Aaron’s chin to grasp the back of his neck, "But I can promise you I’ll never leave you willingly."

“I promise I’ll never, ever leave you willingly,” he repeated, massaging Aaron’s neck while never taking his gaze off the bright blue of Aaron’s eyes.

“But you,” Robert leaned closer to Aaron, hand still on his neck, “you can’t keep hurting yourself. Please, Aaron…just please promise me you won’t do it again. No matter what.”

“I can’t,” Aaron replied, his expression that of a man weighed down by too much.

Robert sighed softly. He wanted so desperately to help, to make everything perfect so that Aaron would never, ever consider harming himself again – but the truth was he didn’t have the power to do that. Only Aaron held that power. All Robert could do was encourage him to find it within himself to resist the urge, to find another outlet; all Robert could do was prove what he’d said – that he’d never leave willingly. And that was something Robert was more than happy to spend the rest of his life proving.

“I’ll try though,” Aaron said, startling Robert from his thoughts, his hand coming up to grasp Robert’s wrist before he gently pulled Robert’s hand from his neck.

“For you, I’ll try,” Aaron said, leaning forward, “I’d do anything for ya.”

Robert couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips, but it didn’t have much time to form as Aaron leaned in and kissed him, tender and long and if they both hadn’t just had the day from hell the kiss would have led immediately to a lot more. As it was, neither man was much in the mood to take things there – it’d been too emotional of a day.

“I love ya, you know,” Aaron said after they’d pulled apart, his forehead pressed against Robert’s, both of them breathing the other in.

“I know, but it’s still nice to hear,” Robert replied.

Twenty minutes later they were under the covers in Aaron’s bed. In a reversal that Robert was going to cherish, Aaron was pressed up against Robert’s back, his arms wrapped tightly around Robert's body, his forehead pressed to the base of Robert's neck. He was breathing deep, even breaths that tickled the tiny hairs on his neck. Robert’s injured arm was propped up on a pillow, but his uninjured arm was holding on to Aaron's arm, pressing it to his chest so tight that even if the other man wanted to roll away, Robert would never let him go.

* * *

The small, portable radio was on, but Aaron wasn’t really paying attention to it. He was too busy trying to make sense of the last month’s accounting. Adam had made a right mess of it and it was all Aaron could do to stop himself throwing the whole clipboard across the length of the portacabin.

Robert had been ordered several days – at least a week – rest; ordered by both his doctor and Aaron. So the scrapyard was quiet. Adam was out on a pick-up and Aaron was seated at the desk, tapping his pen in time to the song on the radio and staring at numbers that made no sense.

“mmmmmm you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye-,” Aaron mumbled the words to the song that had started playing, simultaneously biting at his lower lip and creasing his brow as he stared with complete bewilderment at Adam’s figures.

_“-and I got that red lip classic thing that you like and when we go crashing down we come back every time-,”_

“-’cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style-,” Aaron murmured, his head bobbing slightly in tune to the music.

Suddenly, the mess of numbers and columns and tables made sense and Aaron finally understood what Adam had been trying to do. He grinned at the page, proud of himself for having figured it out.

“Wow.”

Aaron’s head whipped up at the voice to find Liv and Robert standing in the door of the portacabin with matching grins on their faces. He stood and in one quick move turned off the small radio. 

“Guess Robert’s not the only Taylor Swift fan in this family,” Liv rolled her eyes and moved further into the cabin, plopping down in the creaky, swivel chair sat before the desk directly opposite Aaron. She pulled out her phone and pretended to look at something while she surreptitiously watched Robert and Aaron out of the corner of her eye, biting back a smirk as they eye-balled each other with stupid smiles on their faces. Lovesick puppies, they were.

Mortified to have been caught singing Taylor Swift, his heart was also warmed because of what Liv had just said - _’…in this family’_. Robert was absolutely a part of this family and he was chuffed to hear that Liv thought the same. The joy he felt over it almost made up for the extreme embarrassment he was still reeling from, having actually been singing along to a Taylor Swift song.

“Hiya,” Aaron said finally, feeling a flush rise in his cheeks he hoped his beard and the dark shadows in the cabin were disguising from Robert’s teasing eyes.

Eyes moving from Robert, who just smiled and shook his head, to Liv who seemed preoccupied with her phone, Aaron awkwardly stuffed his hands into his pockets before pulling them out again. Wordlessly, Robert moved to stand next to Aaron, kissing behind his ear as he set a small basket of food on the desk.

“We brought you lunch,” he said; they both ignored Liv’s scoff at their display – it was her new thing, to feign disgust whenever they touched, or kissed, or smiled at each other. Aaron knew it was all false though, because on more than one occasion he’d also spotted her grinning stupidly at them after a kiss, or a smile, or a touch.

Aaron nodded, a nervous smile still playing on his face. He was still mortified – he wasn’t even consciously aware that he knew any Taylor Swift songs, let alone that he knew any words to them.

“Yeah. So can we eat?” Liv asked. Her phone gone from sight, she now had her head thrown back against the chair as she spun it in circles.

Aaron looked to Robert and felt his mortification dissipate. Robert’s eyes were bright and cheery and his cheeks flush with color as he grinned once again at Aaron before kissing him on the mouth. Then picking up the basket, he handed it to Aaron before taking the man’s other hand in his uninjured one and pulled him out the cabin door and down the steps.

Since the accident they’d become significantly more affectionate with each other – taking every opportunity to hold hands, or sit close beside each other. They’d taken to hugging more, and kissing more, and both of them were warming up to doing all these things in public view, too. Aaron didn’t care because after thinking that Robert had died, even just for those few minutes, had impacted him more than he’d ever let on with anyone, Robert included; and Robert – who had always been more of a tactile lover anyway – was simply ecstatic that Aaron was being more generous with showing his love, and he hoped he never stopped wanting to show it because touching Aaron was all Robert ever wanted to do.

They heard Liv come bounding down the short set of steps behind them and then she was making kissing noises at them before running ahead, her light laugher carrying back and making Aaron smile. Staring after her and shaking his head with amusement Aaron squeezed Robert’s hand, winking at the other man when he turned his head to look at him.

“So where’re we going?” Aaron asked.

“Just for a picnic,” Robert smiled, “to enjoy this gorgeous summer day.”

It was then that Aaron realized he didn’t care where they went – as long as they went together.

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate all constructive criticism, particularly if I've misused any British slang or terminology. Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
